


Never Narrow

by afterandalasia



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Canon Era, Community: disney_kink, Developing Relationship, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Jasmine (Disney) Ships It, Kissing, Light-Hearted, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Innocence can work both ways. Nobody ever told Jasmine that a man could not love a man, and so it seems quite natural to her that they could. When Aladdin comes into her life, she loves him greatly, in a way that could change nations, but she can't help wondering what it would be like to see his lips at those of another man...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Narrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guiltyhousewife](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=guiltyhousewife).



> From the [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/4400.html?thread=2563888) at Disney Kink. Jasmine the secret slash fangirl for the win.

A princess was supposed to know only what she was told.  
  
About herself, and about the world outside. About matters of state and of the heart, about how things were done. She was supposed to do and to think exactly as she was told, and nothing else.  
  
Perhaps, Jasmine sometimes thought, her life would have been easier if she had been made in that mould. But thinking was simply too much fun to give up.  
  
And more and more often, she found herself thinking of, well, those affairs of the heart in which she was supposed to be so naive. She was only supposed to know of marriage, and perhaps of the existence of harems in the possession of some of the other princes of the Arabian sands. But that was politics, not romantic desire, and on the latter her thoughts had most definitely alighted.

Because when one is never told clearly that desire is to be between a man and a woman, such an assumption will not seem natural. And so naivety can work in two ways.  
  
She was quite young when, peering from the palace walls, she first saw two men come together in a kiss. She can still remember watching, her eyes widening with surprise -- and with a strange delight -- as one of the men, the bolder, drew his companion to him and captured his lips in a kiss. Then the moment passed, and Jasmine dropped quickly back down into the palace, and ran to find Rajah because he was the only one that she could tell. And Rajah gave her that sceptical tigerish look that he always did, but Jasmine found herself dancing in her room in the reflected love that she had seen, and the mere thought of that stolen, hidden romance made her smile.  
  
Most likely, she thinks, it is that which made her realise how beautiful was the love two men could share. It was only when she was older, of course, that her imagination reached further and she would squirm in pleasurable discomfort at the thought of two men in each others' arms -- usually the two men she had first seen, years ago, but occasionally a servant or a guard whom she found pleasing to the eye. Rather later still, thanks to some surprising literary discoveries in her father's library -- she doubted that he knew he owned such books, or perhaps hoped that he didn't -- she became aware of rather more things, and they provided the images behind her eyes when, alone in her bed at night, she would let one hand creep down between her thighs.  
  
  
  
  
Aladdin first comes into her life when she is sixteen. Prince Ali was handsome and dashing and utterly boring, but Aladdin is vibrant and real and treats her like a person, and she falls for him in days. In further break with tradition, their courtship is allowed to tarry for years until they finally feel ready to wed, and once matters with Cassim have cleared up the wedding makes for the greatest celebration in Agrabah for many, many a year.  
  
Jasmine may not have seen many men, but she has developed an eye for the looks of princes, and Aladdin wonderfully traces that line between handsome masculinity and beautiful androgyny, in the lean street-rat lines of his body and his thick, dark hair. If she wakes before he does -- which is not often, considering he is used to rising with the sun -- she will sometimes sit and trace the lines of the muscles on his chest, or brush her fingertips over his long eyelashes, or kiss his life-roughened fingertips to watch him murmur and awaken.  
  
But she never forgets her first exposure to what love can be, those two men, that stolen kiss, and she wonders what it would be like to see Aladdin in the arms of another man.  
  
It is entirely by accident, of course, entirely unbidden, that the image comes to her whilst she is in bed with Aladdin. Another man's hands on his body, another man's lips against his, another man lying before him. In her place, even. And the thought brings her so hard to climax that colours flash in front of her eyes and she is left utterly speechless for the longest of times.

The thoughts grow on her over time. Or, to be more honest, return. She 'discovers' books in the library and brings them to Aladdin, and together they giggle over them and try out some of the things which seemed less ridiculous. But she doesn't do well with her hands tied up and when Aladdin is blindfolded he ends up falling off the bed, though at least when her fingers slide down between his buttocks and play very lightly with the entrance there he gasps and shudders beneath her and she's sure that he's enjoying it.  
  
  
  
  
When Tumaini arrives from Egypt, he takes her breath away. He is a travelling warrior, a swordsman, who has heard of Agrabah and seeks to offer his services to the guards there. With his dusky brown skin a little darker than her own, his short-cropped black hair, and most peculiar of all light, piercing blue eyes he is nothing short of beautiful, and in slender-fitting white robes he cuts a most dashing figure. Aladdin becomes reticent, and she realises before too long that he is jealous of Tumaini, and she spends many a day -- and many more of a night -- convincing him otherwise.  
  
"Perhaps you should get to know him," she suggests. "He seems so nice. And maybe he'll appreciate having someone else around who hasn't always lived in the palace."  
  
In truth, they need little encouragement to become friends. They both enjoy riding, and sparring, and talking about anything and everything. Tumaini as a traveller has more in common with Aladdin as a street rat than either would have thought, and they will stay up deep into the night talking whilst sitting on the palace walls. More than once, they go out into the city and get wickedly drunk, and are appalling at trying to be quiet when they sneak back and Tumaini tries to help Aladdin find his room.  
  
Jasmine thinks how breathtaking it would be to see the two of them kiss.  
  
She allows them to become closer friends before she re-introduces herself to the circle. Tumaini is supposed to be their bodyguard, quite often, when they go on picnics; in reality, she asks him to join them and they spend their afternoons joking and swapping stories that they have heard.

They dance to music made up by Genie on the edge of rivers, or chase Abu through an oasis in order to retrieve some piece of Jasmine's jewellery. And Tumaini when he is drunk is wonderfully friendly and free with touch to both of them, which makes Aladdin envious again for a short while before she kisses him deeply in front of Tumaini, and he seems to take that for reassurance.  
  
  
  
  
One night, lying in Aladdin's arms, she asks him whether he has ever slept with another. He blushes and stutters and says no, and she replies sweetly that she is much the same. She then adds that she has never even kissed another, and if anything Aladdin blushes _more_ at that one and mumbles something to the effect that he has kissed other people before.  
  
"Well, it's not like it's anything to be embarrassed about," Jasmine teases, and relief floods his features.  
  
"No... no, I guess not."  
  
"So..." she rolls over on her stomach, kicking her legs slowly in the air, and looks at him mischievously. "Was it a man or a woman?"  
  
He chokes, almost strangles himself, and goes into a red-faced coughing fit from which he manages to stutter a question. Jasmine fights not to laugh as she plays all innocent, maintaining that she couldn't see _why_ there would be a distinction, and eventually Aladdin manages that it was a woman, thank you very much, so there's no need to worry about that. And this time Jasmine can't help giggling, because he looks so shocked, and she asks what he would think if she kissed a woman. That makes him stammer and look uncertain too, and she gestures for him to whisper in her ear if it makes him feel better.  
  
Finally, she teases him and tickles him and gets him to admit that he would find it 'hot'. Oh yeah, she's heard that from men before; being a princess doesn't stop you from being able to listen to things. So then she tiptoes her fingers up his chest and says coyly that perhaps it would be hot if _he_ kissed another man instead.

He looks astonished. She has to laugh, though that actually seems to put him a little more at ease. And then she rubs their noses together, and tickles him again, and the whole talk becomes a passing joke though she is flushed with pleasure at the thought of placing the idea in Aladdin's head.  
  
  
  
  
They continue to associate with Tumaini, and one night as they sit in the palace after a fine meal, with glasses of wine in their hands, Jasmine finds herself feeling bold. They have been sitting in a circle, but now she rolls onto her front and props her chin on her hands to regard the two men, who are bantering and jokingly talking of arm-wrestling. She cannot but encourage them, and soon they are sitting opposite each other, squaring up, all three of them laughing as the bout begins and they struggle for control over each other.  
  
Jasmine claps in delight as Tumaini seems to be winning, his eyes shining, the muscles in his arm flexing like cords beneath his skin. Then Aladdin, with a whooping laugh and a street rat's audacity, lets his arm fall but responds with a leap that pins Tumaini to the ground. And then arm wrestling becomes pure wrestling, and Jasmine finds her heart pounding in her chest as she watches her husband and their beautiful friend struggling, laughing, eventually rolling apart and punching each other on the shoulders in that way that men do.  
  
She finds Aladdin closest to her, and leans over to whisper in his ear: "Go on. Kiss him."  
  
Aladdin looks round, startled. "What?" he asks, with all the subtlety of a trumpet, and Tumaini looks round as well.  
  
Boldness overwhelming her, Jasmine winks at Tumaini. "What would you say if I asked you whether my husband was handsome?"  
  
Tumaini just laughs. "I would say he is as handsome as you are beautiful, your highness, and that both are high compliments indeed." He wags a finger at them both; he may be a little more drunk, at least than she is.  
  
"And you, Aladdin. What would you say if I asked you whether Tumaini was handsome?"  
  
"Jasmine, I don't really--"  
  
She puts on her best pout for him, though laughter must glitter in her eyes. Colouring, Aladdin admits, "Yeah, you... aren't bad. For a guy."  
  
"If you were a woman, do you think that you would find him attractive?" she asks, and this time even she isn't sure which one of them she is talking to more.  
  
Tumaini laughs, bawdy, and shuffles across to sit next to Aladdin and clap him on the shoulder. "Oh, who wouldn't? A man handsome enough to have won the heart of the princess..." He flings one arm around Aladdin's shoulders, places the other beneath his chin, looks up at him with mock-adoration on his face. Even Aladdin can't help laughing at that one.  
  
"Oh, my handsome warrior, if only I was not wed already," replies Aladdin, cradling Tumaini's cheek in his. The two men are still laughing as they looked at each other with mock romance which, Jasmine is quite sure, had a flicker of real desire beneath it.  
  
Kneeling up, Jasmine wraps her arms around herself. "Oh, I'm sure your wife wouldn't mind a stolen kiss..."  
  
"She must not know!" gasps Tumaini, the theatrics suiting him. He clutches at Aladdin's vest in playful desperation. "Your wife must never know, my lord..."  
  
"Never!" Aladdin replies, _sotto voce_. He clasps Tumaini to his chest, and Jasmine's ribs ache from laughter, but the two men are caught up in their game. "This must remain forever our secret!"  
  
And then Tumaini kisses him.  
  
Jasmine stops laughing, one hand flying to her mouth in astonishment. Aladdin looks pretty surprised as well, as the man clasped up his arms presses their mouths together in something that looks rather like a fierce and desperate kiss. It does not last long, but is certainly more than an instant, and then they break apart and look at each other in astonishment.

"That was..." Aladdin doesn't seem to be able to find the words. He isn't moving out of their exaggerated embrace, though. "Erm..."  
  
"Interesting," giggles Jasmine. She waggles her eyebrows at them both, and Tumaini keeps laughing. " _Hot_ ," she adds, teasing, to Aladdin. He is already flushed, his hair slightly ruffled, and now he coughs as Tumaini looks from one to the other as if to ask what he has missed here.  
  
Aladdin finally grins and gives Tumaini a friendly shake. "I... think I can live with that."


End file.
